Darkness
by Frances Desmarais
Summary: Arthur had a drawing pad that he would draw on whenever he felt his eyesight reducing, and it's mostly pictures of a certain American and a case of flowers.


"Good morning, buttercup! How are you feeling today?"

Arthur groaned as he squinted at the American who just barged into his house without knocking, again. He was wearing the same coat as yesterday's, the one with the number 50 on the back that Arthur loved but won't admit it. His beautiful blonde hair was littered with snow falling from the sky, and his face was red, seemed like he was running again.

It was a snowy day in the middle of December, and it was unusually cold. Arthur was wearing three layers of clothes even if he's inside the house, and partly because Alfred had told him to several times on the phone. Arthur put down his sketchbook neatly beside his pencils on the coffee table and frowned at the American.

"I'm fine, Alfred. And how many times have I told you to knock before you barge into my house like that?" he scolded, crossing his arms across his chest. Alfred laughed and shook away the snow on his head. "About a thousand but still... you don't mind. And you love it when I do it." he replies, setting down his backpack on the couch across the room and sat down beside Arthur on the floor.

"What'cha drawing?" he asked, craning his neck to look at Arthur's sketchbook before Arthur covered it with his hands. "Ooh, being secretive again, eh? Fine. I won't look into your super secret sketchbook. You're probably drawing some weird child porn in it anyway..." Arthur glared at him and smacked him across the head. "It's not child porn, you git. It's... something. Not child porn, definitely." he said to the American who's rubbing his head. "Ok, ok. Fine. Chill. Are you on your period or something?" he joked, this time he successfully dodged Arthur's smack, laughing triumphantly as he made his way into the kitchen.

"Do you have anything to eat, Artie?" Alfred called from the kitchen, following with the sound of the fridge opening and closing. Arthur frowned and got up from the floor. He walked to the kitchen and saw that Alfred had found a packet of potato crisps and was already munching on it hungrily.

"Hey..." Arthur stopped himself from scolding the American and then let out a huge sigh. "Never mind, you won't listen anyway."

"What do you mean by that? I always listen to what you say." Alfred argued with his mouth full, some pieces of crisps fell down onto his trousers and the floor. Arthur winced and let out another huge sigh. "Are you sure? Are you sure you always listen to what I say, Alfred Jones?"

Alfred looked at him for a moment and chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah... maybe sometimes I don't... but..."

"It's fine, Alfred. Never mind. Anyway, why are you here?" Arthur asks, crossing his arms across his chest and squinted at the blonde boy in front of him.

Arthur was diagnosed with a kind of rare disease that will slowly take away his eyesight. There's nothing that he can do to stop it, but he can slow it down, by taking medications and wearing special glasses. Right now, all he could was blur images of things even with his special glasses on. He asked if surgery's an option but was told that the risk is very high and not recommended.

Arthur, with his reducing eyesight will constantly stumble into things. Once he fell down from the stairs and had Alfred found him sprawled on the ground in a weird angle, he had to be in a cast for about a month. There's a lot of things that Arthur can't do, for example, cooking. It's dangerous since he might hurt himself, so he'll order a pizza or have biscuits brought over by Alfred, or to have Alfred cook for him, though he's not a professional one but at least he knows how to make macaroni and cheese... and also ramen noodles.

"To check up on you, sweetie. You know how frustrated you get when you can't see things..." Alfred said, shrugging. Arthur nodded and left the kitchen, leaving Alfred in there with the packet of crisps.

Alfred had moved in beside Arthur a few months ago, and that's how they met. Alfred had brought a pie over to introduce himself to the older man and instantly noticed that there was something wrong with his eye, since it's pretty obvious. He was squinting hard when they talked, as he didn't have his glasses on that time. Upon noticing this, Alfred immediately offered to help the poor man, since he's so heroic and helpful. Arthur denied at first but Alfred had got hold of his keys one day and made a copy so he can come over whenever he pleased, or when he ran out of food.

"So... what do you want to do today? More chess? Or some video games?"

Arthur gave him a glare and Alfred lifted his hands up in defence, "Ok, sorry, I forgot, you can't see... So, chess?" he asked, with an awkward chuckle while Arthur shook his head in defeat, retrieving the chess set from the top of the shelf. Just when he was about to reach for the box, there was a sudden darkness in front of his eyes and he almost knocked him over his feet. He froze in action and stared at the wall until he regained his eyesight again, still blurry and unclear, and continued to take the chess set.

"Darling, you ok?" Alfred asked, concerned. Arthur shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again, looking at the blurry Alfred in front of him. He can't see his expression, it was all a blur, a gigantic mixture of colours and darkness. His special glasses were almost useless now, it could only help him reduce the blur, but not much. It's like he's not wearing them when he's actually wearing them. "Is it that again?" Alfred asked, walking over to take the chess set from Arthur's hands. Arthur shook his head again and muttered a small 'I'm fine', and slowly made his way to the couch, hands reaching out to prevent himself from bumping into things. His foot accidentally kicked the edge of the coffee table and he cried out in pain, cursing while jumping around, clutching his throbbing foot in his hands.

"Are you sure you're ok? Maybe you should lie down... The chess could wait." Alfred said, gently pushing Arthur down to sit on the couch. Arthur was staring at the wall opposite him expressionless. "Alfred..." he said slowly.

"What if... I really went blind?"

Alfred stood up and stared at the Brit with wide eyes, "What are you saying? You won't go blind! You won't! You will be cured and you will be able to see again! I promise..."

"But the doctor said..."

"Screw what the doctor said! You will get cured, Arthur. I believe that. Remember what you said about travelling the world and see things? Well how are you going to do that if you can't see anymore? If you just believe you will get cured then you will!" Alfred said, gripping Arthur's shoulders tightly, shaking him a few times before letting out a loud sigh.

Arthur gave him a small smile and placed his hand on top of Alfred's, and looked up at him, into those blue eyes that he remembered begin fascinated over, but now can't see clearly. He reckoned that they're still the brilliant blue colour he remembered, the blue that's able to suck him in and left him mesmerized for days. "Look, there's no cure for this and..."

"There is!" Alfred interrupted.

"Alfred," Arthur scolded. Alfred muttered an apology.

"And if I really go blind... At least I've seen the things in this world, the blue of the sky and the ocean, the white of the clouds, the green of the grass... I've seen the good and the bad of this world; the beautiful and the ugly. And I've also met a lot of wonderful people... Like Francis... That old git," he let out a chuckle, "Ivan, Feliciano, Yao, Ludwig, Kiku..." he grabbed Alfred's hand and placed it on his cheek, nuzzling it while Alfred's eyes grew wide, surprised by what Arthur had done. "I've seen you. Your beautiful face, your beautiful eyes, your beautiful nose, your beautiful lips, you, you, and you, Alfred Jones. Even if I won't be able to see you in the future, I'd still remember you, I won't ever forget how you look." he said, tears welling up in his eyes. Alfred's heart was thumping in his heart wildly, his hands began to sweat, he wondered if Arthur had noticed.

"Was that... Was that a love confession just now, Arthur?" he asked, voice low. Arthur nodded slowly and shyly, avoiding his eyes. "Well I've liked you since the time you helped me with the lawn. You looked so manly under the sun with the lawn mower, you know that?"

Alfred blushed and lowered his head, not knowing what to say.

Arthur bit his lower lip. "Alfred," he said, lifting his head to look at the blonde.

"Can I draw you?"

Alfred blinked for a few times and nodded, his face still red. Arthur smiled and got up from his seat. He took his drawing pad over from the table and flipped to a new page. Alfred could catch a glimpse at what he had drawn on the previous page. It looked like a silhouette of a person, but Alfred's not so sure.

_So he's drawing child porn after all..._

Alfred smirked and turned his head to look at Arthur when he was being called.

"Look at me, and don't move. Or I'll mess it up." Arthur said behind his pad, looking up constantly to memorize Alfred's face.

Alfred studied the way Arthur's face would scrunch up when he made a mistake and the way he'd wet his lips when he's concentrating. He then remembered that Arthur couldn't see well, then how's he going to draw him if he can't see well?

"Arthur..."

"Shush, I'm drawing." Arthur knitted his eyebrows together and ran his pencil across the pad, concentrating on the drawing.

Alfred shut his mouth and sat quietly on his place, occasionally yawning and stretching, earning scolds from Arthur. His back was beginning to hurt from sitting for such a long time and it's boring sitting like this. He began humming random songs, Arthur looked up from the pad and squinted at the American, "Can you like, be quiet for a while?"

Alfred stopped and puffed up his cheeks, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Alfred..." Arthur scolded, eyebrows knitted together.

"Fine..."

They stayed like that for a while before Arthur started talking. "Remember what I said earlier?" he asked, barely audible. Alfred had to make him repeat one more time before he could hear it. When he got it, his face turned red again. "Well... I like you too, Arthur." he admitted, face heating up.

"Really? You're not just saying that to make me happy, are you?" Arthur asked, not looking up from the pad, face also heating up.

Alfred shook his head, "No. I'm not. You're beautiful, Arthur. I don't care if you're blind or not, I would still love you." he replied, head hanging, preventing Arthur from seeing his face.

Arthur chewed on his bottom lip and nodded. "I'm done." he announced, closing his pad.

"What? Aren't you going to let me see it?" Alfred asked, walking over to the Brit, reaching for the pad.

"It's ugly, and stupid. You're probably going to laugh at me." Arthur pouted, snatching the pad over and hugged it to his chest. Alfred smiled and gently turned Arthur's head to look at him in the eyes.

"I won't laugh at you, I promise. Just let me see, please?" he pleaded, using his famous puppy dog eyes. Arthur closed his eyes and sighed in defeat, loosening his grip on the pad and handed it over to the American. "Don't laugh at me." he repeated, face turning away.

Alfred chuckled at Arthur and flipped open the cover of the pad. What he saw made him speechless and his heart almost stopped beating, the first drawing was him when he was sleeping on Arthur's couch when he's too tired after mowing the lawn. It's drawn perfectly, with every lines and curves clearly on the paper. It's almost like it's a black and white photograph. Alfred gasped in awe and flipped to the second page, it's a picture of him outside the porch with his shirt off due to the hot weather, sipping on cold lemonade. Alfred vaguely remembered Arthur drawing at that time, and he was drawing him. His face turned red as he turned to the next page, the drawing this time wasn't that nice anymore, the lines are squiggly and the shadings were done almost carelessly. It was a picture of a vase of flowers.

"It was when I didn't wear my glasses, I was trying out and the result's this. It's ugly, no?" he asked, looking at his own drawings with Alfred.

"No, it's perfect." Alfred said, tracing his finger along the lines of the drawing.

He continued to flip across the drawing pad, it was mostly drawings of him and the same vase of flowers, the next ones worse than the previous ones. The lines were overlapping each other, the shadings were out of lines, it's impossible to make out what it was anymore unless Arthur told him. Alfred could feel his heart sunk down to his stomach when he saw the last picture. It was the picture of him from a while ago, the lines were drew with such caution and the shadings were done with much concentration, but it was still unrecognizable. Arthur looked away when Alfred turned to look at him, biting at the inside of his cheek.

"This pad is something like my journey with this disease and you. Whenever I feel my eyesight worsen, I'd choose something to draw, to remember, I guess," he chuckled. "It's really scary isn't it, this disease." he said, voice shaking.

Suddenly he was being pulled into a hug. Alfred wrapped his arms tightly around the Brit, burying his head in his shoulder. Arthur was shocked, his heart was beating fast. He closed his eyes, enjoying Alfred's arms around him, and the smell of him; a mixture of the potato crisps he just ate and cologne. He nuzzled Alfred and wrapped his arms around him, returning the hug.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I didn't know what you're going through... I'm sorry..." he apologized, squeezing the Brit tighter in his arms.

"It's fine, Alfred. It's fine..." the Brit said, patting his hand on Alfred's back. They stayed like this for a moment before separating, looking into each other's eyes. Alfred's beautiful blue ones staring into Arthur's dazzling green ones, before slowly pressing their lips against each others. Arthur let out a small moan and wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, pulling him closing. They kissed for a while before pulling away, smiling and holding each other.

"I might be going blind but... I'm not afraid, as long as you're with me." Arthur said contently, leaning on Alfred's shoulder. Alfred patted his hair absent minded-ly. "You'll be fine. I'll be here, I'll be your eyes if you can't see, but I'm 100% sure that you won't."

…

"Alfred! Where are you?" Arthur called, reaching out blindly, grasping at the air at his boyfriend. He just woke up a few minutes ago and couldn't feel Alfred beside him and began to panic. He had gone completely blind a few weeks ago. One morning he woke up and it was complete darkness for him. Alfred had held him while he cried over his loss of sight, it was difficult for him at first but he slowly got used to it. His could hear better now that he couldn't see. He depended on Alfred for a long of things and he was glad that he had him when he needed him the most.

"What is it, baby?" Alfred called, running upstairs with a piece of toast in hand. Upon hearing Alfred's voice, Arthur calmed down and let out a sigh of relief. "Nothing, love. Good morning." he smiled, even though he couldn't see Alfred's face, he knew that the American's having an annoyed grin on his face right now.

"Morning to you too, sunshine." Alfred replied, walking over to the bed, stuffing the toast in his mouth before climbing onto the bed. Arthur felt the bed sunk and turned his head to the left and felt Alfred's lips on his own, tasting a hint of peanut butter on his lips.

"Do you need help?" Alfred asked, grinning widely, as he knew that Arthur couldn't see him.

"Not right now. Stay in bed with me?" Arthur asked, reaching his arms out to wrap them around Alfred's neck, pulling him down with him. Alfred laughed and snuggled against his lover, wrapping his arms around the smaller body.

"How's the weather today? Tell me..."

Alfred looked over at the window and began describing the sky. "It's blue, like usual... no, wait, a shade blue-er that usual, yeah, that. And there's hardly any cloud, it's gonna be warm today, I guess. There're birds flying by and oh, an aeroplane! Wonder where the people are going to..."

Arthur smiled and snuggled closer to his boyfriend who's still talking about the aeroplane and the passengers and Europe. He was glad that Alfred didn't left him when he was at his most vulnerable state and was also glad that Alfred loved him as much as he loved him.

Although he's blind, but with Alfred, he could still see; not with his eyes, but with his heart.

* * *

**Yikes, shitty ending is shitty. **

**Well I always like the idea of a blind Arthur (I'm such a bad person) and then I wrote this. It's not the best one ever. I didn't get it beta'd and didn't even bother with it, plus my grammar is famous for being crap.**

**Thank you for reading and putting up with my lame ass grammar.**


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